The Lightning Thief
by Kako Koritsi
Summary: When you lord over existence with a ball of yarn and a pair of scissors, sometimes, you reach the need to create some means of entertainment. The Fates had a long list of games for this reason, but their favorite? Between each slice of their scissor's sharp blades, they liked to pull the string of Percy Jackson's life, seeing how tarnished they can make it without splitting a seam.
1. Prologue

He didn't quite know what to think of this, really. Lightning raced across his fingertips as a vast hurricane sheltered his glowing figure, the buried corpses of long ago rising from their places in the Underworld at his will. The power was overwhelming, his skin honed to metal- _overwhelming_.

Yes, there were no words that could take up the task of describing the thoughts the poisoned his dazed mind. It was probably better not to think at all.

The boy in front of him, taking up the soul of a Titan- he understood. Time bending at his will, running up to brace against the power of the gods; it must also be overwhelming in its own way. Percy realized that. Percy heeded that.

If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend that the world went still for a small moment. As its breath was held, the storm stopped, the dead froze. Percy's control faded into nothing, skin softening to something more human.

The boy still stood in front of him, with his large gold eyes.

If he could keep the illusion going, he would walk briskly a few steps, coming to a halt directly in front of Kronos. The two would stay there for a moment, breathing in the same wisps of air and Mist.

At this point, a smile would tug at the boy's lips, upturning the corners of his mouth into a tiny grin. The little change would mean everything, and Kronos's eyes would flicker blue, and Luke would be back.

The illusion always ended like that, it seemed. With the traces of a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest and a heavier heart. It was definitely better not to think.


	2. Chapter One

The Manhattan streets were always havoc, but Percy thought that during this time of day, they were especially so.

Cars lined up behind one another, unable to even go forward another two inches. You had that, and then the occasional pedestrian running across the yellow-lined asphalt through the cracks between vehicles and every few bikes and motorcycles weaving theirselves between said spaces. The sun shined a bit too brightly, the air a little too hot, and before you knew it, everyone in the traffic was a raging mess.

Percy didn't know where Manhattan hid it's beauty. It wasn't in it's night skies, with air so polluted you couldn't see a single star. It also wasn't in the mornings, with the top canvas of the heavens gray and cloudy and, if especially unlucky, raining down on the people below it. The scene in front of him was proof that it wasn't in it's middays, but Percy knew it was somewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked, when Percy wordlessly took a seat next to him on the fountain's edge. It wasn't anything special, just a pool of water in a shining marble case, the nozzle that's supposed to enable water to shoot upward apparently sealed off.

He shook his head, hand going into his lunch box and coming back with an apple. It was shiny and red, only the corners nursing a bit of green.

Percy's eyes found his best friend, who sat rather glumly beside him. The start of a beard mangled with his mouth, usually pulled into a nervous smile. His legs twitched every so often, cap pulled loosely on his head so that a few curly brown tufts protruded at the ends. He looked so crestfallen, Percy gave him the apple.

"Nah," he replied, somewhat cheering up as Grover took the apple gratefully. "Not from Brunner." He let the words sink in with a sigh. "I just wish he'd lay off of me sometimes. I mean-" he faltered. "I'm not a genius."

Grover hummed, biting down on his apple. Percy imagined the crunch could be heard all the way to his mom's apartment, deeper in the city. The thought gave him a bit more cheer, but he really hated field trips.

It wasn't long before Nancy came over with a group of friends. Percy looked up, sea-green eyes cautiously observing their visitors. Her freckled face was pulled into a devious grin, orange hair sprawling around her head and glowing gently in the setting sun's rays like some strange halo. It was almost ironic.

She proceeded to drop her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap, the other preppy girls behind her giggling like maniacs. The sound reverberated around Percy's head. "Oops," she chirped, displaying her crooked yellow teeth proudly.

Percy didn't know what it was. His ADHD made the world go fuzzy for a moment, ears supplying the sound off crackling thunder. His eyes faltered, blacking out temporarily as the fountain exploded into waves. He faintly felt water collide into him like a cool gust of air, the smell of lighting and fresh earth evading his nostrils. Everything stopped for a few moments, moments precious to time but blocked out.

When his vision came back, the fountain was gone. Percy was sprawled out on his back, Grover a few paces behind him. The only remains of the structure was a spurt of focused water and dusted marble. His eyes widened as he stood, taking up the full extent of the sight in front of him.

Deep running cracks were embedded into the cement, rich soil spilling out. A storm suddenly rumbled overhead, flashes of lightning whipping out across the gathering clouds. Percy stumbled to the wreckage, breath catching in his throat as he saw what remained of Nancy Bobofit.

* * *

They sat alone in an otherwise empty table, secluded from all the other kids. Percy couldn't really bring himself to care much when Grover was his best friend, but he also had more troubling matters on his mind.

It had been two weeks since his "dream," as everyone but him liked to call it. It went on even farther a stretch to say that Nancy Bobofit, a bully that he had know since joining Yancy Academy, was part of that hallucination- as well as Percy's killing her. He inwardly shuddered at the reminder of her burned corpse, placing the fork that had made it halfway to his mouth back on the tray.

Maybe it was better if those memories stayed a dream.

Grover watched him sympathetically. He was one of the only ones that actually tolerated Percy now, which was nice, but didn't do much for his self-esteem. He remembered when he had to explain why he had woken up half the school with feverish screaming, and the account of his dream only brought doubt to Mr Brunner's eyes. Nobody bought it, chalking it up to another long lists of his hallucinations, wisps of reality that weren't real.

He really was troubled; more troubled than he thought a dyslexic ADHD kid could be if said kid randomly remembered people no one else did. Or, for that matter, days. The trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art apparently never happened.

He sighed, picking up his fork and shoving it into his mouth. The cold equivalent of what the staff thought passed as mashed potatoes clashed distastefully on his tongue, leaving a bad aftertaste. Percy felt his nose scrunch up involuntarily.

Grove spoke, grabbing both of their trays. "Look at the bright side," he told Percy, dumping their food into the nearby trash can. "School ends in a week." He smiled; leave it to Grover to raise his spirits up for a moment.

"Yeah," he answered, just as the school bells began ringing through the Academy's halls, and that was that.

* * *

Percy was sitting on a slowly decaying seat on the bus, steadily rumbling towards the cab that would take him home. The inside had that leftover trace of cigarette smoke drifting in the air, the windows so covered in fingerprints and smudges that it was impossible to see through. He didn't necessarily know if that was a bad thing.

Grover sat beside him, the epitome of nervous. His hands kept anxiously tucking in escaping wisps of hair into his cap or fiddling with the end of his shirt, biting his bottom lip and kicking his feet back and forth so hard the seat in front of them shuddered. Percy was somewhat thankful that no one sat in front of them to be victim for his friend's sudden show of ADHD.

He himself was a bit nervous, but it was that exited kind of nervousness that left you half-pumped with adrenaline and an aching stomach. Grover looked like he was going to be sick.

"Looking for Kindly Ones?" He finally blurted. Grover's head whipped back to face him so fast it made Percy kind of dizzy.

"Wha- what do you mean?" Percy narrowed his eyes.

"You and Mr Brunner... I heard you guys. The night before the exam. Talking about me."

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh, not much." He turned to the blurred window. "What's the summer solstice deadline?"

He winced, something that Percy could feel on the chair that they shared. "Look, Percy," he took a deep breath, voice shaking. "I was just worried about you. I mean, weird super powers and-"

"Grover-"

He cut Percy off. "-And I was telling Mr Brunner that maybe you were over-stressed or something, because there was no such person as Nancy Bobofit, and..." He trailed off with a shrug.

Percy sighed, facing him. "Grover, you're a really, really bad liar."

He could see his best friend's ears turn bright pink under his hat. From his stained shirt pocket, he managed to fish out a grubby business card. He forced it in Percy's hands.

It was all in fancy script, taking Percy a few years to finally read what it said. "Grover, what's Half-Blood-"

He shrieked. "Don't say it out loud!" In a much calmer voice, he continued. "It's my, um, summer address." Something in the admittance made Percy's heart sink.

"Oh, okay," he replied, voice hollow. "So, like, if I wanted to come visit your mansion."

Grover nodded. "Or if you need me."

The next words came out harsher than he meant them to. "Why would I need you?" Grover's face flushed, and he looked down, twiddling with his thumbs.

"Look, Percy, the truth is," another deep breath. "I kind of have to protect you."

Percy raised his eyebrows at that, staring at his best friend with wide sea-green eyes. "Grover..." He paused, considering his next words. "What exactly are you protecting me from?"

As if on cue, a huge grinding noise sounded under their feet, the Greyhound shaking. The gentle scent of cigars turned sour, black smoke pouring from the dashboard as the driver steered the bus over to the sidewalk. After a few moments, everyone filed outside.

The bus had stopped at a barren stretch of country road, maple trees and patches of litter taking up long fields of grass. On the other side of the road was a stocked-up fruit stand.

It was filled with heaping boxes of blood red cherries and plumb apples, fresh apricot and walnuts, and jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub of ice. The smell wafted over to the bus's side of the road, along with the sound of needles clacking.

It came from the owners of the stand, three old ladies knitting giant socks. The scene was slightly hilarious; the ladies on the right and left knitted a pair of socks that could fit a giant while the woman in the middle held their electric-blue yarn. It also seemed kind of... familiar, three pairs of daunting old eyes staring right at him.

Percy turned to say something to Grover, faltering when he caught sight of his best friend. Grover looked terrified, the blood drained from his face.

"Grover?" His nose was twitching. "Hey, man-"

He was interrupted by Grover's quivering voice. "Tell me they're not looking at you." He turned his wide eyes to Percy. "They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh?" He aimed a smile at his best friend. "Hey, you think those socks would fit me?" He joked.

Grover shot him a look. "Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

The lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors; gold and silver, long bladed, shining in the sun. When she cut the hanging thread of yarn, the snip could be heard from miles, but Percy still made out her words. They were whispered, mouth barely moving, each not-quite-English letter sounding like she said them right next to his ear.

"_I'll be waiting for you in Olympus, Perseus._" He hardly registered Grover tugging at the doors of the Greyhound anxiously as the ladies packed up their yarn, fading into mist.


	3. Chapter Two

The waves rolled gently off the sand and then back again, stars lighting up the night sky like glowing freckles on its midnight canvas. The fire licked lazily at the heaps of wood below it, flaring up every now and then before settling. He watched it with a certain daze, sea-green eyes reflecting the flames.

His mom pulled a perfectly roasted marshmallow off the tip of her stake, brown on the outside but sticky on the inside. She gave him a heart-warming smile, her own gentle eyes twinkling. Percy upturned the corners of his mouth in reciprocation, finally working up the courage to ask her the million dollar question that he always did.

His voice was soft, curiosity smoothing out the edges. "What was my dad like?" He asked, watching as Sally's eyes went misty.

"Hey was kind, Percy," she responded, and it was the same answer as always, but he was okay with that. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know." She looked up at her son. "And his green eyes."

Her hands fished a blue jelly bean out of the large candy bag between them, Percy watching with mild interest. "I wish he could see you, Percy," she continued. "He would be so proud."

He pondered that for a moment, knowing it wouldn't be true, before popping the next question from his mouth. "How old was I?" Not needing to elaborate but feeling like he did, he added. "I mean, when he left."

Her grin settled, fading away into the features of her face. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right at this beach." Her gaze flickered to the sea. "This cabin."

"But..." He faltered. "He knew me as a baby."

She looked at him, shaking her head slightly. "No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

His eyes widened, and he looked down at his hands in his lap, thinking. "Are you going to send me away again?" He eventually asked. "To another boarding school?"

She pulled out another marshmallow. "I don't know, honey," she told him, disheartened. "I think-" she faltered. "I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" He blurted out, regretting it instantly as the words escaped.

Sally's eyes welled up with tears as she took her son's hand. "Oh, Percy, no. I- I _have_ to, honey. I have to send you away."

He remembered the words that his favorite teacher had said, right before the year ended as they kicked him out. "Because I'm not normal?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she said, squeezing his hand. "You don't know how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I'd thought you'd finally be safe."

Percy looked at his mom quizzically. "Safe from what?" She only shook her head again, looking away.

He let go of their hands, sighing inwardly, thoughts wandering to red-haired girls dying in fountains and ladies in fruit stands. It was a while until his mom spoke up again.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," she muttered. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy- the place that your father wanted me to send you to. And I just-" she paused, voice heavy. "I just can't do it."

He didn't know what to make of that. "My dad wanted to send me to a special school?" He finally decided.

"Not a school," she corrected. "A summer camp." His head was swimming with questions, the feelings showing in his eyes only causing her to look away once more.

She apologized, words sincere. "I can't talk about it. I couldn't- I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good?" He asked. "But it's only a summer camp-" he stopped, seeing the look in his mother's eyes, unsure if the next question would be enough to break her.

* * *

The 78' Camaro tore through the vicious winds, knocking its passengers back and forth, lightning crackling through the skies overhead. Even as the makings of a horror movie came to life before his very eyes, Percy could not stop staring at his friend beside him.

His friend's features lit up from the occasional lights via the storm overhead, revealing hard eyes and nervous expression. And underneath it all, his shaggy goat legs twitched, Percy still unable to break his gaze from the sight. It wasn't every day your best friend turned out to be half donkey, he mused.

"So," he started. "So, you and my mom know each other?"

Grover spared his friend a raised eyebrow, eyes darting to the review mirror. "Not exactly," he answered. "I mean, we've never met in person before. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you," he elaborated. "Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily, and Percy believed him. "I _am_ your friend."

"Um," he stuttered. "What _are_ you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now," he insisted.

"It doesn't matter?" Percy questioned. "From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey-" he was stopped by a sort of irritated bleat.

"Goat!" He cried. Percy raised his eyebrows. "I'm a _goat_ from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter," he accused. Grover rolled his eyes, making the sound again.

"There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!" Percy held up his hands at that.

"Woah," he told his friend. "Wait. Satyrs? Like Mr Brunner's myths?"

Grieve fixed him with a hard look. "Were those ladies a myth, Percy? Was the museum a myth?"

His eyes widened. "So, that stuff really happened? There _was_ a field trip?" Grover nodded, expression turning sad. "And Nancy? I really..." He suddenly felt sick, each jolt of the car too sharp. "Then why-"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you would attract," he replied, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "We put the Mist over the humans' eyes. We had hoped you would think that the field trip was just a hallucination, especially with a Kindly One so close on our trail, but it was no good. You started to realize who you were." Percy remembered the words exchanged in Brunner's classroom, the look in his least favorite teacher's eyes the day before he left.

"Who I am?" Another roar came from behind him, Percy still not knowing what it was, but wanting to know.

"Percy," his mom spoke from her place behind the wheel. "There's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what?" He pressed. Grover gave a sarcastic snort.

"Oh, nobody much," he answered. "Just the Lord of the dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions. Maybe even Mrs Dodds, since she's been having her eyes on you all year."

"Grover!" Sally chastised. The satyr in questions sighed, peering over his shoulder anxiously.

"Sorry, Mrs Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

As she contented, Percy tried to wrap his head around what was happening. She made a hard left, zooming through darkened farmhouses and strawberry fields.

"Where are we going?" He wondered.

"The summer camp I told you about," she answered, voice tight. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go," he commented, tones hollow.

"Please, dear," she begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger." But he didn't want to, if understanding meant that he was leaving his mother, if it meant that his best friend was a goat, if it meant he had killed someone in ways he couldn't comprehend.

"Because some old ladies cut yarn," he whined, and it sounded stupid to his ears, too.

"They weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what that means- the fact that they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to," he faltered. "When someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said 'you.'" His eyes widened.

"No I didn't," Grover insisted. "I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you,'" he corrected. "As in _me_."

"I meant _you_, as in someone. Not you," Grover said defiantly. "_You_."

"Boys!" Sally said, pulling the wheel hard to the right. Percy's eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the things they were running from; a dark fluttering shape, lost to the storm, and a large figure with sharp horns.

"What was that?" He demanded, heart pace quickening.

"We're almost there," his mom reassured. She started to murmur consolations that he wouldn't remember, just as a hard flash of light flooded the car and a weightless feeling overtook him.


	4. Chapter Three

He pried his forehead off the back of the smoking headrest, headache pounding in his skull. Percy groaned, hearing his mom shout for him, but took a while to reply.

"I'm fine," he finally mumbled, opening his eyes. The car had drove into a ditch, sinking into the mud, but that wasn't all. He had felt the hairs on his arms stand up, caught whiffs of ozone in the air, like a strike of lightning had hit the Camaro.

Droplets of rain came through a large hole in the roof, metal cracked open like an eggshell. He moaned again, looking for his satyr friend. Percy's eyes scanned over a motionless lump next to him in the back seat, smelling of wet dog and barnyard animals.

"Grover!" He gasped, finding his way to the seat. His friend had blood trickling over the side of his mouth, and Percy's heartbeat quickened. The rain came down harder.

He shook the satyr, hands quivering. Finally, Grover showed signs of life, mumbling something incoherently. Percy didn't listen to the words, glad that they were still alive.

"Percy," his mom spoke, voice heavy. "We have to-" another flash of lightning cut her off, and when he turned, he could see why.

Shapes approached in the distance, amplified by light and roars, coming closer with every breath. He could hear the sound paired up with screeching, and suddenly, his mind just kind of gave out, because these weren't the kinds of hallucinations people had.

"Who is-" Sally's voice cut him off, deadly serious.

"Percy, get out of the car." She slammed herself against the driver's door and Percy's hands found his own, but they were jammed shut with mud. He glanced towards the hole in the roof, edges sizzling, and a part of him was glad that they managed to wreck the car against his step-father's wishes.

"Climb out of the passenger's side!" She finally said, anxious. He looked at her as she continued. "Percy, you have to run. Do you see that big tree?" She pointed, but Percy didn't look.

"What?" He glanced at the next flash of lightning, spotting what she meant; a huge pine tree at the crest of the nearest hill, branches blowing in the strong winds.

"That's the property line," Sally explained, and he could tell she was trying hard not to panic. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back," she urged, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yell for help, but don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom," he said, eyes narrowing. "You're coming, too." Her face was pale, eyes sad like they were whenever she saw the ocean. His voice raised into a shout. "No! You _are_ coming with me. Help me carry Grover." His friend moaned again, the shapes growing closer.

"He doesn't want us, he wants you," she tried to reason, but the words didn't make sense to him. "And I can't cross the property line either way."

"But-" She cut him off, voice right.

"We don't have time, Percy," Sally reminded him. "Go." He felt anger rising in his chest, the same anger that he had felt with Nancy, and tried to pretend he hadn't felt the ground shake.

Percy climbed over Grover, forcing the door open out into the rain. "We're going together," he told her. "Come on, mom."

He heard we exasperated sigh. "I told you-"

"Mom!" He said, and had to push down the stirring in his gut. "I am not leaving you," he said, serious. "Help me with Grover." He scrambled outside, hauling the satyr to his feet. He only stumbled, putting his full weight on Percy, and they stumbled towards the hills before Sally came out.

Together, they draped Grover's arms over their shoulders, making their way through waist-high grass. He glanced back, getting a clear look at the monster behind them, and Percy almost stopped.

"That's-"

"Pasiphaë's son," Sally interrupted. "I wish I had known how badly they wanted to kill you."

He struggled with the concept. "But that's the Mino-"

"Don't," his mom warned. "Don't say his name. Names have power." The monster ambled to the car as he tried to make sense of it, nuzzling the heap of metal.

"Food?" Grover mumbled, and Percy shushed him before turning to Sally.

"What's he doing?" He asked. "Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing and terrible," she said, struggling with Grover's dead weight. "He goes by smell, but he'll figure out where we are soon enough." He flinched as the Minotaur roared in anger, picking up the Camaro and slamming it against the wet asphalt. It skimmed along the road for a few moments before exploding into a shower of sparks.

"Percy," his mom said, anxious, and he turned to look into her worried eyes. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way- directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

He gaped at her, getting out a nod. "How do you know all this?"

She looked down slightly, guilty. "I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you with me."

He wanted to protest but another bellow of rage broke his thoughts, and they both turned. The Minotaur had started up the hill, having caught their scent.

The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill grew steadily steeper, pushing their limits. The monster started to close in, and Sally pushed away her exhaustion to shoulder Grover.

"Go, Percy! Separate!" She looked at him, desperately. "Remember what I said." He didn't want to split but consented, sprinting left and ahead of the bull's path.

He finally turned to face it, finding its black beady eyes, nearly choking on the stench of rotting meat. It stomped ground and lowered its head, charging, and just at the last second Percy dodged.

It barreled past him, and Percy glanced longingly at the lights of a farmhouse half a mile away. He knew they wouldn't make it in time.

The Minotaur grunted, pawing at the ground towards the other two. Just as it was about to charge, a screech filled the air.

He flinched, looking towards the source of the sound. His eyes found a bird-like shape, whipping through the rain, much larger than any bird could be. It circled around him, like a vulture waiting for its prey to die.

Caught in the distraction, he didn't notice the Minotaur charge until it was too late. It made for his mom, grabbing her by the waist before she could get away. He lifted her screaming form victoriously, Percy crying out.

"Mom!" He had never felt this panicked before, this scared, not knowing what to do. She caught his eyes, yelling at him to go before the bird-like creature swooped down and caught her in its claws. It was gone in a flash, whisking his mother away to her death.

He didn't feel anything, couldn't feel anything, as the world exploded into bright light around him.

* * *

_Check out my _**Bio**_ for any news on this story and my others, including update times (not set dates), expectations to reach for next chapters, and any thanks to you humans for viewing/favoriting/following/reviewing this story._


	5. Chapter Four

Everything hurt.

The world was spinning, bright lights breaking into his vision. His head pounded, his arms and legs felt numb, and his stomach was churning. Air just scraped through his throat, barely squeezing through the cracks, and everything felt fuzzy and distant.

He didn't know how long he spent like this. Most of it was in darkness, or strange dreams Percy could never chase down or make sense of. Sometimes, the weirdest images would flash through his eyes, strange hallucinations that were too real. He just felt tired, content to let the world go by.

His mom was gone, and everything hurt.

* * *

"Hey, don't loose me," a voice spoke near him, clear and crisp. He tried to focus in on it, fading away slowly, cutting into his mind.

Percy tried to speak, but failed, his mouth foul and weak. His eyelids fluttered momentarily, catching glimpses of sky blue eyes before sliding shut once more.

"Hey," it said again, and he faintly felt a hand on his shoulder. "I can't feed you properly if you're sleeping." Something poked at his chin, presumedly a spoon, and he tried to open his lips. They only shifted a crack, but it seemed to be enough, pudding-like substance slipping into his mouth.

The taste of buttered popcorn settled on his tastebuds, keeping the sour sensation away. A sudden burst of energy enabled him to lift his eyelids, but the light outside was still too strong to make anything out.

"That's it," the voice said, soothingly, and he let himself sink back into darkness.

* * *

The peaceful afternoon fields were beautiful, grass blades shining from the gently pulsing sun, trees swaying gently in the wind- but his eyes fell on the tall drink beside him first. It resembled tea, ice cubes clinging against each other, and he never wanted anything more.

His hands reached out, shaking, grasping roughly at the glass and causing it to tremble. He lifted it slowly, and it almost dropped to the ground when another pair of hands caught the drink in time.

"Careful," strong tones said reassuringly, and the voice sounded faintly familiar, reminding him of pudding and popcorn. He let the straw be guided to his lips, allowing his eyelids to slide close as the drink flooded into his mouth, tasting of homemade cookies.

When the drink was drained, Percy looked back up, meeting startling blue eyes. The person they belonged to offered him an award-winning smile, complete with ruffled blond hair and an orange tee. Letters saying "Camp Half-Blood" were printed on the fabric, tan khakis and sandals finishing off the outfit.

Percy could make out a scar on his right cheek, hands still gripping his own. Seemingly noticing this also, the boy grabbed the cup and retracted his hands, placing the empty drink on the nearby table. When that was done, he turned back to Percy, smile still in place.

"Hey you," he said, encouragingly, like he was an infant trying to stand. He unknowingly scowled, and the guy barked out a laugh. "How much do you remember?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. "There was this kind of..." He trailed off, uncertain, not really wanting those memories to return.

"Yeah?" The guy asked, patiently. Percy looked up at him nervously.

"It's pretty crazy," he admitted. The boy laughed again.

"Try me."

Percy eyes him cautiously. "I saw the Minotaur." He choked on the next words, unwilling to tell much more to a complete stranger, even if he was still banged up and dazed.

He seemed to understand that, too, and helped him up. The world spun as soon as he was righted, and he found himself leaning heavily on the blond. He tried to pull away, but the attempts only seemed to bring him closer to a face-plant.

"C'mon," he said, taking Percy's weight in stride. "Let's go find Mr D."

The walk to was long, Percy limping along the way, but the guy's help got him there. They went along the porch, reaching to the opposite end of the house. He didn't try to make sense of the beauty down the other side of the hill, focusing on the large table under the roof's shade.

Two men sat at the table, playing some sort of card game he didn't recognize from here. His attention shot up, however, at the sight of his best friend. Grover was idly chatting to one of the men, who seemed to be in a large wheelchair, expression unusually crestfallen. When his brown eyes caught sight of Percy, however, his whole expression seemed to brighten.

He ran over to Percy in that strange way of his, a frenzied limp, his shoe kicking off accidentally on the way. A hoof took the place of a foot, however, and the sight made Percy sick to the stomach. It was like finding out he _had_ really killed Nancy Bobofit, except this time, it wasn't a bully that had died.

"Percy!" Grover exclaimed, sliding his shoe back on with minimal difficulty. He enveloped Percy in a huge hug, squeezing too tightly, but Percy reciprocated as much as he could.

When they finally pulled away, he found that the guy that had gotten him here was gone, both occupants at the table gazing at him steadily. Their faces were too far to make out, but he didn't see them returning to their card game anytime soon.

Grover didn't let him think on that for too long. "Hey, Perce," he said, tones light and excited. "You've been out for two days, and we had to double the normal amount of ambrosia and nectar to patch you up this quickly." Percy didn't understand much of that, but let him ramble on. He noticed a shoe box at Grover's side, and eyed it wearily. His friend noticed, handing it over, letting Percy lean on the porch rail for support.

"You saved my life," Grover said, and he opened the box to see a glimmering horn staring back at him. "It was the least I could do, so I- I went back to the hill." He gestured at what was no doubt the Minotaur's horn, shyness creeping up in his eyes. "Spoil of war."

_Spoil of war?_ He didn't remember a war, or battle, or anything, not really. Not after the thing-

He choked, tears fighting to break free through his eyes. Grover looked at him, concerned, and he forced himself to speak. "My mom," he stuttered. "Is she really-" Grover looked at him sadly.

"Come with me," he said. "I'll explain it all." The satyr let him lean against his shoulder, leading him to the two others at the table, sun beating down at their backs.

* * *

Percy leaned against the hard cabin walls, trying his best to compact himself into a corner. The other kids weren't mean, sure, but he wasn't quite looking for any conversations.

He didn't know what to do anymore. He was officially an orphan, with powers that had killed people before. Percy was a bigger freak than he had ever been in his whole life.

He sighed, not noticing much of anything until someone took a seat beside him. A glance proved that it was the guy from before; Luke Castellan.

A part of him wanted to leave, but he couldn't make good on it under that smile, especially since Luke had been so nice before. He nodded, scooting over to give him some more room, and Luke thrusted a large sack into his lap in return.

"I found you a sleeping bag," he explained. "And stole you some toiletries from the camp store."

He didn't know what to think of that, but his heart lifted in a way it hadn't the whole day. "Thanks," he said, as sincere as possible.

"No prob," he said, pulling up his arm to rest his head on and propping another one against Percy's shoulders, as if in an attempt to get comfortable. Percy let him, not caring enough anymore.

"Tough first day?" He spoke up, breaking the companionable silence. Percy nodded, letting out a deep breath, leaning against Luke's arm when sitting up became too unbearable. He still found himself getting dizzy an awful lot, especially with the recent episode in the bathrooms, and just wanted to curl up in his bed at his mom's apartment more than anything.

"I don't belong here," he admitted at last. "I don't even believe in gods." He waited for the distant thunder that seemed to sound every time he breached this subject, but if it did come, he couldn't hear it over the noise of the cabin.

"Yeah," Luke replied, somewhat bitterly. "That's how we all started. Once you start believing in them? It doesn't get any easier." Percy blinked, slightly surprised, finding the need to change the subject.

"Your dad is Hermes?" He blurted, watching Luke lean back and close his eyes.

"Yeah," he answered, and his voice sounded hollow. "Hermes."

"The wing-footed messenger guy."

Luke smiled again, but it wasn't a happy expression. "That's him. Messengers, medicine, travelers, merchants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors."

Percy nodded slightly, Luke's eyes opening up a crack. "I didn't mean to insult you," he said, apologetically. "He's just not the greatest person to get along with, I suppose."

He didn't know why he felt the need to continue the subject, but he did. "Did you ever meet your dad?"

Luke closed his eyes again, sighing deeply, head almost touching Percy's shoulder. "Once," he said. "But it's probably not something you would want to hear about."

He didn't know how to reply, giving a shrug, small enough that it didn't disturb Luke. Just when he'd thought the other demigod was asleep, he spoke. "Don't worry about it, Perce," he reassured, the nickname rolling off his tongue. "The campers here, they're mostly good people. After all, we're an extended family, right? We take care of each other."

He really wanted to say something, something more, but Luke chose that moment to get up from his position. He yelled an order to the others, and watched as the all ran outside, arranging into a line. Through the chaos, Luke gave him one more smile, muttering something about dinner before going to the front.

Percy distinctly heard a horn blowing in the distance as he lined up, sun retreating into the horizon, as he tried to make sense of his life.

* * *

_I just wanted to clarify that any mistakes you see are a result of posting these chapters literally seconds after writing them. All you see here is raw, and I would edit it, but every time I try I just end up making more mistakes. Call it me being anxious to give you mortals more chapters faster._

_Was "human slaves" too mean of a term? Really, you guys are awesome._

_Check out my _**Bio**_ for news, and if you want to hear my inner-monologue. But you probably don't, so I'll advise you to stick to the _**News**_ section for update times and appreciation. See you soon, reviews are love- but so is the fact that you took the time to read this, so you're already great._


	6. Chapter Five

"Good luck," the camper said, with a smirk riding his mouth, and Percy got the feeling that it was sarcasm. He shrugged, quirking a nervous grin of his own.

"Maybe he'll go easy on me," Percy said, ignoring the snort that served as the reply. They were friends, after all- it was plausible, right?

He walked towards the center of the arena, heart heavy and sword strange in his grip. Luke was waiting for him, blue eyes reflecting the afternoon sun. Percy aimed his smile at Luke, who reciprocated with more enthusiasm. When their swords clashed, the sound echoed through the camp, bringing in all the other campers' attention.

They took a break when Percy lost count of the cuts and bruises he had received. The class gathered around the cooler and benches, sipping from ice-cold water bottles. Luke tossed him one, pouring the contents of his own over his head. Percy copied the movement swiftly, feeling fresh adrenaline rush through his body.

He was stopped by his puzzlement by Luke, who had stood and was gesturing at the others to do so. "Okay, everybody circle up!" He shouted. "If Percy doesn't mind, I want to give you a little demo." He grinned over at Percy, who just shrugged, not feeling like it was much of an option.

The Hermes kids formed around the two, suppressing snarky expressions and holding amused glints in their irises. Percy listened raptly as the blond spoke, fingers clenching at his sword.

"This is difficult," Luke stressed, addressing them all. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique."

He demonstrated the move in slow motion, the blade clattering out of Percy's hand. He hurried to retrieve it, looking at Luke for further instructions.

"Now in real time," he said, glancing at Percy. "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?"

Percy nodded, dodging just in time as Luke came after him. He managed to reflect a few moves and put in a strike of his own, shocking the cabin leader and himself. Something changed in the way he saw the fight, like he had trained for this for years.

It didn't take long until the sword started to grow heavier in his palm, the rush of energy starting to diminish. In a last attempt, he tried the move, putting all his weight into making Luke's sword hit the ground.

It met the ground with a clash, and Luke's eyes lit up in a way he hadn't seem them do before.

* * *

The night of capture the flag was lively, as if the excitement of the demigods helped fuel the light of the stars of the chills of the wind. Percy watched as his tutor, Annabeth, ran up to the pavilion with two of her sisters and a silver silk flag. Clarisse held a gaudy red banner of her own, smirking deviously in a way that reminded him of Nancy.

He turned to the blond next to him at the table, yelling over the noise. "Those are the flags?"

Luke squinted at him. "Yeah."

"Ares and Athena lead the teams?"

"Not always," Luke said, turning his attention back to the commotion. "But often."

Percy thought about that for a moment. "So, if another cabin catches one, what do you do? Re-paint the flag?"

Luke glanced at him briefly, as if considering. "You'll see," he decided.

Percy hummed, the last question rolling off his tongue. "Whose side are we on?"

The outline of his face against the raging glow of the torches pulled itself into a sly expression, scar running down his features adding a menacing touch. "We've made a temporary alliance with Athena," he said, tone telling and yet revealing nothing. "Tonight, we get the flag from Ares. And _you_ are going to help."

The next series of events went by in a blur, Chiron's speech echoing in his head. Luke helped him with the armor, nimble fingers making quick work of the complicated straps Percy would have spent hours on. The armor weighed him down, but Luke assured him it was worth the protection, handing Percy a bronze sword.

The son of Hermes looked around at the tables briefly, before selecting a polished helmet with a blue plume. He pulled it down on Percy's head, giving him his position and going off to assist the others.

Annabeth yelled something to the team and Percy joined in with the cheers, following the group down into the south woods. He had to struggle to catch up with Annabeth, trying not to be deterred when she just kept on marching despite his efforts.

He finally matched her pace, boots thudding against the soft soil of the woods. "So, what's the plan?" After he received no answer, Percy pressed on. "Got any magic items you can loan me?"

Her hand drifted to her pocket suspiciously, and Percy raised his eyebrow. They survived the bathrooms together, escaped from the Ares kids- surely she realized that he wasn't going to steal from her after that?

He suppressed the sigh, listening when she talked. "Just watch Clarisse's spear," Annabeth warned. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?"

He nodded. "Border patrol, whatever that means."

"It's easy," she said. "Just stand by the creek, keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan." She pushed forward, leaving him in the dust.

"Glad you wanted me on your team," he murmured, trotting along with the rest of the group.

* * *

The night further into the woods was sticky and hot, fireflies clinging to the trees. Percy was left behind with a large bronze shield and an unbalanced sword, sulking as his teammates won the game. He distinctly wondered what Luke and the others were doing, and if he should actually care. Maybe the son of Hermes just uses all the new campers as pillows and then leaves them out to wallow in creeks.

A kid with a blue plume rushed passed, running over the borderline and into enemy territory. The leather grip on Percy's sword pulled down on his wrist, ears listening to the gentle sounds of the water pouring over rocks and wishing he were somewhere else.

Somewhere lost in his own thoughts the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, attention sharpening on its own account. He squinted out in the dark, jumping when the underbrush exploded and a cluster of Ares kids came rushing out of the makeshift hiding spot.

"Cream the punk!" Clarisse screeched, leading the ambush. He managed to dodge the first swing, just bringing his shield up in time to block Clarisse's spear. His hair stood up and the air smoked, and even though he recognized it as electricity it didn't seem to hurt.

The next swing did, however, and he hit the dirt. Percy watched as the four gathered around him, laughing.

"Give 'em a haircut," Clarisse snickered. "Grab his hair."

Percy stumbled to his feet, sword ready and eyes wary. Clarisse's spear slammed into his sword, but it didn't bother him, even as electricity ran up his arms.

"The flag's that way," he told them, not liking his chances, even if Clarisse's spear wasn't too effective. The sharp swords of her siblings would make up for that.

"Yeah," one of the kids snarled. "But see, we don't care about the flag. We care about a guy who made our cabin look stupid."

"You do that all on your own," he shot back, feeling daring and suicidal.

The effect was immediate. Two of them rushed forward, distracting him from Clarisse's spear, which dug straight into his ribs. It didn't do any major damage, thanks to his chest plate, but the small consolation was ruined when an Ares kid slashed his weapon against Percy's arm.

Seeing his own blood woke up something inside of him. The water in the creek churned, the ground rumbled slightly. Clarisse's spear buzzed unnaturally with wicked power, and he didn't know what was going on, didn't care.

Something was awakening.

* * *

_An update comes tomorrow, you know. Just because you guys are awesome. _

_As always, check out my _**Bio**_ for news._


	7. Chapter Six

"How did you do that?" Annabeth questioned, figure shimmering into existence. He couldn't even bring himself to be angry, staring at the Ares kids sprawled around his feet.

"Do what?" He questioned, finally looking at the blond. Her grey eyes shone with wonder, fingers clenching at a baseball cap, while the blue team some ways away cheered for Luke's victory.

"You know what I mean," she told him, scowling slightly, and he did know what she meant. It was seconds before Clarisse's spear had exploded into a furry of sparks, before the ground had rumbled so hard that the world seemed to blur, before Luke came rushing over the border line with a red banner and joyful campers at his feet.

"I don't know," he murmured, kind of in awe. One of the kids started to stir, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Percy tuned to the daughter of Athena, head tilted. "You set me up," he accused. "You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank." It was clever, but he didn't really care about that, either. "You had it all figured out."

Annabeth shrugged, still staring at him with her calculating gaze. "I told you. Athena always, always has a plan."

"A plan to get me pulverized," he sulked.

"I came as fast as I could. I was about to jump in, but..." She shrugged, again. "You didn't need the help." She looked as his wounded arm. "What's that?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Sword cut," he told her. "What do you think it is?"

"No," she promised. "It _was_ a sword cut. Look at it."

He glanced at his arm. The gash, which was long and deep before, was barely a scar. Even as he watched it disappeared, leaving behind only torn sleeves. "I-I don't get it," stuttered, a frown strung across his mouth.

She thought for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. Finally, she spoke, voice determined. "Step out of the water, Percy."

"But-" she shook her head, irises bright.

"Just do it." He finally did as she said, not liking the results. The adrenaline left him instantly, body feeling numb, head pounding. He would've fell over if Annabeth hadn't steadied him, strong hands on his shoulders and face too close.

She let go once he could stand, cursing. "Styx, this is not good. How is this even possible?" She glanced down at the broken spear, and the cracks in the ground that hadn't been there before. "How is this even possible? Only Zeus could have caused this to-" she stops suddenly, looking at him with confused eyes, but he didn't have any good responses.

Something tugged at his gut right then, moments before the howl ripped through the forest. The cheering died instantly, Chiron shouting something in Ancient Greek that he understood perfectly. Annabeth drew her dagger, cautious and alert, but he was blinking in a daze.

On the rocks just above the two was a snarling monster, not there seconds ago but not quite here now. Its beady red eyes glared at them from high up, teeth bared, and it leaped towards Percy.

Annabeth pushed him away, trying to put her knife between him and the monster, but it was too quick. It found Percy and knocked him to the ground, claws retracting from large paws.

The monster seemed to hesitate for a small moment, the slightest of whimpers seeping out through its jaw, but the doubt didn't last. His armor was easily torn through, claws digging into skin, chest feeling warm and wet. The pain exploded over his whole body, and even when the flurry of arrows at the beast's neck stopped further harm, it lingered.

Chiron trotted up to the two, Luke following closely behind. His moment of glory was gone but it was if he didn't even notice, an emotion in his blue eyes that Percy couldn't comprehend.

"_Di Immortales_!" Annabeth swore, looking up at her mentor. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They're not supposed to-"

"Someone summoned it," Chiron told her, gravely. "Someone from inside camp." They watched the body of the hellhound sink into the ground, gone forever in the Underworld.

"You're hurt," Luke finally said, a frown on his face, and Percy distinctly wondered how'd he figured it out.

Annabeth nodded even so, speaking. "Get into the water, Percy." He turned to look at her, confused.

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not." She tried to lift him from where he lay, but Luke took over, having him stand. He walked Percy over to the creek, supporting him, while the rest of the camp gathered around.

The effect was immediate, his cuts closing up, blood clearing away. Percy heard gasps all around, felt Luke's look of awe, but didn't share the sentiment.

"Look, I don't know why," he stuttered. "I'm sorry-" he was stopped as the world responded to his raging emotions. Lightning flashed overhead, the water of the creek swishing in a frenzy, the ground rumbling and cracking at his feet.

They all stared at him, gaze never breaking. "This doesn't make sense," Annabeth murmured. "Who's your father?"

"My father?" Percy asked. Was he doing this?

All around him, the campers starting kneeling. Luke let go, giving only a smile in reply to Percy's questioning gaze, moving to bow along with the others.

Chiron was the last to kneel, voice reverent when he spoke. "Hail, Perseus Jackson," he said, but nothing else came after, because not even _he_ knew what was happening now.

The storm continued to brew overhead, and the Earth continued to quake, but nobody was left standing at the centaur's words.

* * *

The knocking of a hoof against threshold woke him from the dream, the sound reverberating through cabin three.

Percy sat straight up, body shaking slightly. "Um," he stuttered, unsure if he had been imaging the noise or not. "Come it?"

The door swung open, Grover trotting in nervously. He relaxed, giving his friend a smile, but it wasn't reciprocated.

"Mr D wants to see you," he said, standing near his bed.

"Why?"

"He wants to kill-" he stopped suddenly, looking slightly sheepish. "I mean, I better let him tell you."

Percy shrugged, pulling on some clothes, following his friend out of the lonely cabin. Above the island the skies were dark with a storm brewing, a thick curtain of rain coming in their direction.

"Should we bring an umbrella?" He asked, suddenly wishing that he had one. Grover shook his head.

"No," he answered. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

Percy pointed at the clouds above. "What the heck is that, then?"

He glanced up too, uneasily. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does." He nodded, following Grover to the Big House.

Dionysus and Chiron were playing cards as always, the god wearing his usual Hawaiian attired while the centaur sat in his fake wheelchair. Two invisible opponents took the seats beside them, cards holding up themselves.

"Well, well," Dionysus tutted, not looking up from the game. "Our little celebrity."

Percy waited, mouth shut.

"Come closer," he sighed, waving his hands. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because one of those slobs up there is your father." A net of lighting flashed across the clouds but Dionysus didn't react, sighing again.

"If I had my way," the god grumped, setting down his cards. "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against against my mission at this cursed camp, to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr D," Chiron put in, tones resigned.

"Nonsense," the god insisted. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of blasting you into the sky, returning you to whichever one up there is your father."

"Mr D-" Chiron warned, and Dionysus stopped.

"Oh, all right," he relented. "There's one more option, but it's deadly foolishness." He rose, the cards dropping to the hard oak table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll shove him off a cliff. A very high cliff." He waves his hands, and the cards disappear. "Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson," he said, turning to said boy. "If you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

He looked at Percy, long and hard. And with a snap of his fingers, he was gone, leaving behind the scent of freshly-peeled grapes. And when the storm broke through the sky, rain falling on their heads, Percy realized this was because of him.


	8. Chapter Seven

He fidgeted nervously outside the Hermes cabin, alone in the dead of night. There was something strange about the silence around him, as opposed to the constant rumble of the Manhattan city. He didn't know if he liked it.

Percy's hand paused just outside the door, knocking quickly before his courage could recede back into the corners of his mind. He stayed outside for while after that, praying to the gods that it wouldn't be one of the other Hermes kids who answered, and found himself in luck.

Luke Castellan opened the door with a creak, looking too awake for the time. He blinked as his eyes met with Percy, aiming a smile at the other boy.

"Hey, Perce," he greeted, leaning against the doorway. "What's up?"

"Uh, well," he started, unsure. "I was kind of offered this quest." Luke didn't seem surprised, so he continued. "And Grover is already going on it, but we need another person, so maybe you would like to come?" He let the question hang, looking at the older hopefully.

Truthfully, Annabeth had already offered- or, rather, insisted- to go with him and Grover. He didn't really want to accept, though. Yes, she was experienced, but he wanted to bring along someone that he knew better. And, well, Luke was right up there, next to Grover and Chiron. The guy had nursed him back to health, after all. That certainly seemed to qualify enough.

Luke seemed to consider for a moment, before giving a shrug. "Sure."

Percy stared at him. He had expected it to be harder, honestly, but Luke hadn't even bothered to ask what they were doing; in fact, the son of Hermes almost seemed relieved.

"Okay, well," he stumbled, searching for the words. "We leave early tomorrow morning."

Luke nodded at the information, smile growing. "Meet you then." He closed the door in Percy's face, leaving the boy staring at the wall with a confused expression. And when he headed back to the Zeus cabin, still in a daze, he started to wonder just exactly what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

He gazed at the highway outside, at all the billboards and supermarkets, feeling strange and out of place. The real world seemed like a fantasy now, something he could never look at the same way again, and the thought was almost nostalgic in his mind.

Percy spied the son of Hermes in his peripheral vision, being reminded of his first night at Camp Half-Blood. He had seen an honest friend in Luke, needing somewhere to fit in and something to believe in. He didn't know if he had found those things yet, not really, but Luke at least appeared to be a friend worth keeping.

His hands nervously toyed with Chiron's pen, a gift the centaur had given him before he left. He was insanely thankful, Anaklusmos being the only weapon that felt truly comfortable to him. He recalled Chiron's thoughtful look as he handed it over, eyes flickering with mild doubt, and a part of him wondered what had been going through the centaur's head.

Percy was the first to speak, voice nervous. "So far, so good," he remarked. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

Luke nodded, sparing a look to the other. "That is something to look forward to," he agreed, sounding solemn.

He smiled softly. "Thanks for coming with us."

Luke bumped their shoulders, eyes sparkling. "It's no problem. Besides, Camp was pretty boring until you showed. Getting out of there, well," he considered. "Let's just say it was an easy choice on my part."

"It's hard to imagine that place being boring," Percy admitted. "Still, thanks. If you said no, I would have had to accept Annabeth's offer."

Luke thought about that. "What's wrong with Annabeth?"

"Nothing, nothing really," he said, slipping the pen back into his pocket. "She's pretty cool. She just kind of hates me."

"I don't think she hates you," he consoled. "She just doesn't think you guys are supposed to get along."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Well, it's a huge possibility that you are the son of Poseidon. And Athena and Poseidon hate each other. Annabeth just wouldn't feel comfortable knowing she was friends with the spawn of one of her mother's enemies."

"Why do they hate each other?"

Luke had to think on that before answering. "Well, there was this one time where Athena caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in her own temple, which is pretty disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be a patron god for the city of Athens. Poseidon created a salt water spring and Athena created the olive tree, which the town preferred."

"They must've really liked olives," he mused, and Luke snorted.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Now, if she invented pizza-"

"-that I could understand," he finished, both laughing. "Still," he finally said. "It's kind of weird to think that way."

"A little," Luke agreed. "But it is a possibility." He turned his head to look at Percy, starting to frown slightly. "You know, it's also possible that you're the son of Zeus, considering that you were allowed into his cabin."

"I was also allowed into Poseidon's cabin," he reminded Luke, thinking back. "And Hades, too. I think Chiron was too scared to let me try another one, though."

"Yeah, it was pretty freaky," Luke said. "You should've been dead." He went quiet for a while, before continuing. "I've also never seen anyone with powers like you had back at the forest, assuming that you were the one doing it. Either way, it was a sign from the gods, and, well, there's been rumors."

Percy raised his eyebrow at that. "Rumors?"

Luke shrugged. "Well, there's this talk about a thing that happened at a museum. With a girl..." He trailed off, eyeing Percy, who suddenly felt sick.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He had been trying to convince himself that it wasn't him, trying to forget. He couldn't have done that, right? And even if he had, it was an accident, wasn't it?

Luke bit his lip, considering, as the talk turned sour. "Well, the way she died," he decided. "It was with the combined power of gods. The kind of thing that takes an extreme amount of Mist to cover up, the kind of thing that's supposed to be impossible." He paused. "The kind of things that you've been doing since you arrived here, actually."

He looked like he wanted to say more but didn't, shutting his mouth at Percy's grimace. They continued in silence for the rest of the ride, tension thick. Traffic slowed them down in the Queens, and it was sunset by the time they reached Manhattan. They grabbed their bags and bus tickets, watching as the car drove off, becoming another one of the stream of vehicles along the roads.

Percy's eyes caught onto a flyer taped to a ratty mailbox, displaying his face. It took him a while to read the bold words, and when they registered in his mind he hurried over to tear it off.

He turned to the others, rain starting to come down on their heads. Luke was looking around, taking in the city, Grover staring at him with sad eyes. The satyr came over, shouldering his backpack, looking at the remains of the poster.

"You want to know why she married him, Percy?" He asked, tone soft and reassuring, and it was the first time he spoke since they left Camp Half-Blood. Percy looked at him warily.

"Were you reading my mind or something?" Grover considered the question.

"Just your emotions," he admitted, giving a smile. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that." He looked down, head bowed slightly. "You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?"

He nodded, watching Luke glance over to them in the corner of his eye. He was kind of grateful the son of Hermes kept his distance, unable to decide if he should tell Grover they could talk later.

"Your mom married Gabe for _you_," he said, and Percy latched on to the conversation. "You call him 'Smelley,' but you have no idea. The guy has this aura, and, well," he wrinkled his nose. "I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a week."

"Thanks," he told his friend, pulling a face. "Where's the nearest shower?"

"You should be thankful, Percy," Grover admonished, but they both heard Luke snort from where he was. "Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady," he remarked. "She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy- if that makes you feel any better."

It didn't.

He looked at Grover and Luke, feeling guilty. He hadn't been honest with them, when he had explained the quest to Luke, when he had given Grover his false motivations. Sure, the end of the world wasn't an option, and he was curious as to who was his father, but it didn't matter as much as it should have. The thought of his mom, trapped in hell, was the only reason he had needed to agree to this.

_You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend_, the Oracle's voice reminded him, whispering in his mind. _You will fail to save what matters most, in the end_.

_Shut up_, he told it, and they started to walk the sidewalks of the bustling city, rain coming down in sheets.


	9. Chapter Eight

The bus groaned to a stop in front of the three, wheels rumbling on wet asphalt. Drops of rain thudded on the metal cover, doors slowly coming open with a screech.

The squeezed their way through the tightly packed rows of seats, finally finding an empty group in the back. Percy was shoved against the window as more passengers came in, his satyr friend watching the entrance with anxious eyes.

He only paid attention when said satyr kicked his leg from the other side of the seat, nodding his head towards the front. Percy glanced over, sight being met by an elderly woman in a crumpled velvet dress.

He shot a confused look at Grover, but the goat wasn't paying attention. Turning back to the front, he finally saw it; under the loads of make-up and wrinkles, Mrs Dodds' black eyes were still the same.

She was followed by two other women, all the same features and too-sweet smiles. They took seats at the front as the bus started moving, crossing their legs across the walkway to form a giant 'X'.

"She didn't stay dead long," Percy murmured, the glass of the window cold against his arm. "I thought Annabeth said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"If your lucky," Luke said, and his voice seemed too loud for the situation. "Which you're not, apparently."

"All three of them!" Grover whimpered, and he was faintly reminded of a tale of three bird-like creatures, all blood-shot eyes and leather bat wings. "_Di immortales!_"

"Uh," he said, tapping his fingers against his thigh. "Maybe we can get out through the windows?"

"The windows don't open," Luke answered, trying to keep an upbeat tone.

"Okay, uh, maybe there's a back exit?" A quick glance to the back proved that there wasn't, but it wouldn't have mattered much. They were already on Ninth Avenue, headed for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," Percy reassured. "Right?"

Luke shrugged. "The Mist will probably hide the kill," he informed them, Grover giving a nervous whine at that.

"Okay," he said, finding it harder to take it all in stride. "How about an emergency exit on the roof?"

They hit the Lincoln Tunnel, then, the bus going dark. There was only the occasional running light down the aisle, vehicle eerily silent without the bombardment of rain.

He saw Mrs Dodds stand, voice flat and rehearsed. "I need to use the bathroom."

"So do I," said the second sister.

"So do I," said the third sister.

The other two stood with their sibling, walking slowly down aisle. His heart started pounding against his chest, mind racing.

"What do we do?" He hissed to the others, keeping his sight on his pre-Algebra teacher.

"It is dark," Luke reasoned. "Maybe they won't be able to see us." Percy frowned, because he liked Luke and all, but it really wasn't going to be that easy.

Grover spoke, tone panicked and harsh. "Percy, climb under the seats."

"What?"

"There's enough room for you to squeeze in," he urged, the passing light making his features pronounced.

He really didn't see that happening. "Grover, it's not going to help much-"

"Your smell is overpowering," he said, the triplets getting closer. "There's a chance she might not notice us. Just get under the seat, and when they pass, start crawling your way up front."

Percy was pretty doubtful, but he consented, handing Luke his pack and getting on all fours. His stomach met the dirty bus floor as he scooted under, the bottom of the torn seats pressing down his back in the tight squeeze. It was extremely claustrophobic in the least, and he hated it.

He tucked his arms by his sides, waiting for the ladies to pass. Percy could hear the footsteps as they stopped near their seat, only allowing himself to breathe again when they passed.

Slowly but surely, he made his way out from under the seat, trying not to imagine what he looked like to his friends. Percy squeezed through the seat ahead, where the only occupant was fortunately asleep, hiding under the bench two spots ahead of his friends.

He stared at the pair of legs in front of him, blocking his path, and frowned. Slowly and painfully maneuvering a hand to the person's jeans, he tugged hard at the fabric.

The person jumped up, giving him the opportunity to roll past. Just when he thought he was safe there was a tug on his head, sharp-nailed fingers pulling on his hair.

Percy gasped as screeches filled the air, mixed in with Grover's angry bleating. He didn't have much time to focus on the sound, whole body being dragged from the seat by his head.

He struggled against the hand, talons digging into his scalp as the mortals cowered and yelled for help. He managed to pull his head away, trying to ignore the blistering waves of pain at the action.

Crawling out of the space, he ran across the walkway, the Fury behind him screaming blood murder. On an impulse he made it to the driver, taking a hold of the wheel in his shock and jerking the whole bus to the left.

The driver wrestled for the wheel, Percy swiftly dodging any attempts and throwing the monsters (and mortals) all around the aisle. The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind the group.

They finally careened out of Lincoln tunnel and back into the rainstorm, cars quickly dodging the vehicle and the sound of blaring horns taking up the scene. In the chaos the driver found an exit, shooting down dozens of traffic lights and barreling down one of the empty rural streets. Seeing as they started to head towards the river, Percy hit the emergency break, bus wailing as it was forced to slow down.

It spun into a full circle, crashing into the large pine trees on the side of the road. The emergency lights came on and the doors were flung open, the driver the first one out as the passengers quickly followed. Percy hid in the driver's seat, letting them pass as his mind still tried to process all that had just happened.

The Furies regained their balance soon enough, lashing their whips at Grover as he chucked tin cans back at them. He scanned the bus, searching, but Luke was nowhere to be found.

Two of the sisters hopped on the seats on either side of Mrs Dodds, snarling at him with fanged teeth. They started to crawl towards him, ignoring his friends, skin leathery and rough.

"Perseus Jackson," the hag in the middle spoke, voice deep and angry. "You have offended the gods. You shall die."

He reached into his back pocket, watching as Luke started to back away from the triplets and Grover aimed one of his tin cans. They both watched him, cautiously, waiting for his move.

"I liked you better as a math teacher," he admitted, smirking. They snarled at him, about to pounce forward, but froze when he pulled out the pen.

_Anaklusmos_ sprang to life in his hands, the bronze blade glimmering in the slight darkness. They hesitated, eyes narrowing simultaneously at the double-edged sword.

She finally spoke again, angrier than before. "Submit now," she growled. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."

"Nice try," he said, smirking, his sword swinging in a perfect arc towards her chest.

* * *

Their feet stomped across the slick mud, the glow of New York City lighting up the horizon behind them. The Hudson was strong in the air, smelling foul, as they made their way along the New Jersey riverbank.

His arms were wrapped around the other two's shoulders, body still sore from being yanked underneath the bus seats and leg bandaged from where Luke had accidentally hit it. He could still feel the cut of cool metal against his skin, and let out an involuntary wince from his position.

Luke looked over at him, putting on a frown. "Gods, Perce, I'm sorry," he apologized for the dozenth time that day, pulling up the biggest puppy-dog eyes he had ever seen.

"It's fine," he grunted out, Grover shifting underneath his weight. "Everyone make mistakes, right?" Luke nodded, still seeming pretty downcast, but he didn't feel like continuing the subject.

The thunderstorm eventually let up, the night getting thicker with darkness until he could only see the stars above and the glint of Luke's blonde hair. They continued on in silence for a mile or so, tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable.

He finally spotted the harsh glow of neon, the scent of greasy restaurant food wafting into the air. They pressed on until a deserted two-lane road came into sight, tress starting to clear.

On the other side of the street was a closed-down gas station and the only open business, the source of the neon and amazing smell. It didn't appear to be a fast-food place, but instead a strange antique roadside stop. He squinted at the glowing red cursive print, trying to make out the words.

"What the heck does that say?" He finally asked, giving in. Percy's leg throbbed underneath him, making him wish that their bags hadn't exploded like the rest of the bus.

"Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium," Grover answered, adjusting his arm once more. Percy let him, glancing at the stone garden gnomes flanking the entrance.

He urged them forward and they consented, following the smell of food. Grover finally tugged back suddenly, scowling.

"Guys," he warned, but Percy didn't pay him much heed.

"The lights are on inside," Luke noticed, voice sounding coaxing. "Maybe it's open."

"Snack bar?" Percy asked, wistful.

"Snack bar," Luke agreed, smiling in that way that the children of Hermes always do.

"Are you two crazy?" Grover asked, incredulous. "This place is weird." They ignored him, moving forward, and the satyr had no choice but to follow.

They stopped in front of the door, Grover bleating nervously at the stone satyr playing reed pipes near the entrance. His hoofs clacked nervously against the cement, whimpering.

"Don't knock," he pleaded, sounding panicked. "I smell monsters."

"Your nose is clogged up from the Furies," Luke reassured. "All we smell are delicious burgers. Aren't you hungry?"

Percy's stomach rumbled in agreement, but Grover looked appalled. "I'm a vegetarian!"

"You eat enchiladas and aluminum cans," Percy reminded him, unhelpful.

"Those are vegetables," Grover whined, tugging at his arm. "Come on. Let's leave. These statues are staring at me."

Before he could give a reply the door creaked open, a tall Middle Eastern woman standing in the entrance. She wore a long black gown that covered all but her hands, coffee colored and perfectly manicured. A pair of eyes glinted behind the veil that covered her face, voice sounding sweet as she spoke.

"Children," she cooed, concerned. "It is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?"

After a second of tense silence, Percy blurted out an answer. "We're orphans," he said, and for him it wasn't too much of a lie.

"Orphans?" She gasped, the word sounding alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not?"

"We got separated from our caravan," he hurried on. "Our circus caravan. The ring master told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he met a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost." His stomach rumbled again, louder. "Is that food I smell?"

It was probably the worst lie he could have come up with but she bought it, opening the door a bit wider. She ushered them in, giving little time for introductions, and the door closed behind their backs as they headed into darkness.


	10. Chapter Nine

The taste of beef and greasy fries was heaven in his mouth, refreshing soda washing it all down. Percy didn't notice himself slipping into a slight daze, only enjoying the delicious meal.

The four sat at the picnic table, sky cloudless over their heads. The cluster of trees surrounding them looked almost ominous in darkness of night, wind whistling through the leaves. It was just cold enough to get under his skin, but something about Aunty Em made him forget the discomfort.

"So," Percy finally said, in an attempt to make conversation. "You sell gnomes."

She nodded. "Oh, yes. And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know."

"A lot of business on the road?"

Her voice sounded more resigned when she answered. "Not so much, no," Aunty Em admitted. "Since the highway was built, they do not go this was now. I must cherish every customer I get."

Percy glanced at one of the statues, a little girl holding an Easter basket. It was amazingly detailed, but the horrified look in her face made the work unsettling.

Aunty Em seemed to catch on to his train of thought. "Ah," she told him. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face."

"You make the statues yourself?" He asked.

"Oh, yes," she answered. "Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company." The sadness in her voice drew Percy closer, weighing him down along with her.

"Two sisters?" He wondered, and she nodded sadly.

"It's a terrible story," she started. "Not one for children, really. You see, Percy, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price."

Percy didn't fully understand what she meant, but he felt himself sympathizing either way. Who would want to hurt someone so nice?

"Percy?" Grover started, looking over at him. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting."

Luke seemed to ignore him, addressing Aunty Em in what seemed like the first time. "I saw you have a really nice vintage camera, back near the shop."

She nodded excitedly. "I do," she confirmed, almost proudly. "Actually, would you dears be willing to sit for a pose?"

Percy sipped contentedly on his drink, watching the exchange. Luke smiled back, Grover looking terrified as usual. "We would be happy to," he answered. "Right, Perce?"

"Actually," Grover reminded them. "We're kind of pressed for time."

"Nonsense," Luke scoffed, pulling Percy up to his feet. He didn't try to resist, stumbling only slightly. Grover made a little unhappy sound, narrowing his eyes.

"We need to go, guys," Grover urged, standing along with the others. Percy shook his head, earning himself a scowl.

"We have enough time for a photo, right?" He asked. Aunty Em seemed to agree, gesturing at them to follow. They were lead back to the front of the house, near most the statues. She directed the three to one of the benches, having them all sit down as she brought out an old-fashioned camera.

To Percy, it didn't even look like it would work, but Aunty Em started to mess with the tiny machine. She glanced at them, veil covering her face.

"There's not much light for a photo," Percy remarked. Aunty Em just shook her head, tutting gently.

"Just enough for us to see one another," she promised. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me, everyone? A large smile?"

Grover ignored the request, looking just as spooked as ever. Aunty Em kept playing with the camera, sighing through the fabric concealing her features.

"I will just be a moment," she told them. "You know, I can't see you very well with this cursed veil..."

"_Percy!_" Grover hissed, panicking. Percy felt like he should be paying attention, every one of his instincts telling him to bolt, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Just calm down," she said, voice almost reassuring. Wrinkled hands went to undo the veil, working slowly. They managed to pull it up just a bit, revealing dark red lips and pointed teeth.

_Pointed teeth_.

That did it for him. Percy jolted with a start, bringing both of his friends down as the hissing of snakes was heard overhead. The three landed with a hard thud, the action fully jarring him back to reality.

He looked at all the statues around him for what felt like the first time, heart pounding roughly in his chest. "Guys," he whispered, pulling them behind the stone bench. "What monster can turn people into stone?"

Luke didn't offer any reply, seemingly thinking hard. Grover was the one who gave them the answer; "Medusa."

He shuddered, looking at both of them. "How do we kill her?" Grover seemed unsure, Luke almost uncaring.

Medusa spoke from the other side of their hiding spot, voice inhuman. "Come on, dears. We still haven't taken that picture."

He couldn't pinpoint whether or not she had gotten closer. He pulled out his pen from his pocket, uncapping it, and his sword sprang to full form.

Percy jumped over the stone bench, and the others could have sworn they heard the soft rumble of thunder as he ran to the monster.

* * *

Glimmering stars freckled the ongoing sky, wisps of clouds trailing the crescent moon. They found camp deep into the forest, secluded from monsters and humanity.

Grover climbed up into the lowest pine tree he could find, settling himself on the rough bark. His eyes peeked out from under his cap, sigh escaping his lips.

Luke made himself comfortable on the ground, settling himself near Percy. The other sat straight up, bringing his hands to his mouth to warm them.

"Go ahead and sleep," he told the son of Hermes, voice quiet. "I'll wake you up if there's trouble."

Luke looked up at him. "You sure?" Percy nodded, watching from the corner of his eye as Luke curled up and drifted off.

Grover and Percy stayed in companionable silence for a short time, the satyr breaking it with a melancholy musing. "It makes me so sad, Percy."

"What does?" He asked, confused. "The fact that you signed up for this stupid quest?

"No," he answered. "_This_ does." Percy looked up as he pointed to the occasional garbage littering the ground. "And the sky. You can barely see any stars. They've polluted the sky. This is a terrible time to be a satyr."

"Oh, yeah," he realized. "I guess you'd be an environmentalist."

Grover looked at him, glaring. "Only a human wouldn't be. Your species is clogging up the world so fast- ah, never mind. It's useless to lecture a human. At the rate things are going, I'll never find Pan."

"Pam? Like the cooking spray?"

"Pan!" He cried out, sounding indignant. "P-a-n. The great god Pan! What do you think I want a searcher's license for?"

A strange breeze wafted through the small clearings, overtaking the musty scent of garbage and muck. It smelled of berries and windflowers, things that might've been in this area long ago.

"Tell me about the search."

Grover looked at him cautiously, but started nonetheless. "The god of Wild Places disappeared two thousand years ago," he told Percy. "A sailor off the coast of Ephesos heard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore: 'Tell them that the great god Pan has died!' When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since. But for the satyrs, Pan was our lord and master. He protected us and the wild places of the Earth. We refused to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to finding Pan. They search the Earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping we can find where he is hidden and wake him from his sleep."

Percy thought about that when he was done. "And you want to be a searcher?"

"It's my life's dream," he said. "I want to be the first searcher to return alive."

Percy went wide-eyed at that. "Hang on- the _first?_"

Grover took his reed pipes from his pocket. "No searcher has ever come back. Once they set out, they disappear. They're never seen alive again."

"Not once in two thousand years?"

"No."

"But you still want to go," Percy mused, amazed. "I mean, you really think you'll be the one to find Pan?"

"I have to believe that, Percy," he said. "Every searcher does. It's the only thing that keeps us from despair when we look at what humans have done to the world. I have to believe Pan can still be awakened."

Something came to Percy's mind. "How are we going to get into the Underworld? I mean, do we really have a chance against a god?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But something is going on with this quest. Something strange."

"Well, duh. I'm getting blamed for stealing a thunderbolt that Hades took."

"That's not what I mean," Grover clarified. "The Fur- the Kindly Ones were sort of holding back. Back on the bus, they just weren't as aggressive as they could've been."

"They were plenty aggressive to me," he answered.

Grover shook his head. "They were screeching at us. 'Where is it? Where?'"

"Asking about me," he pointed out.

"Maybe," Grover said, uncertainly. "But I got the feeling they weren't asking for a person. They said 'where is it?' They seemed to be asking about an object."

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know," Grover agreed. "But if we misunderstood something about this quest, and we only have nine days to find the master bolt..." He looked at Percy as if the satyr was hoping for answers, but he didn't have any.

He thought about it, sighing deeply. "I haven't been straight with you," he admitted. "I don't care about the master bolt. I agreed to go to the Underworld so I could bring back my mother."

Grover blew a soft note on his pipes. "I know that, Percy. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"I'm not doing it for my father, if that's what you mean," he replied. "I don't even know who that is. If he cared, he would have claimed me. But he doesn't care about me, and I don't care about him."

Grover gazed down at him from his tree branch. "Look, Percy. I'm not as good with a sword as Luke. I'm not as brave as you. But I'm pretty good at reading emotions. You're glad that your dad is alive, even if you don't know him. Part of you wants to make him proud. That's why you mailed Medusa's head to Olympus. You wanted him to notice what you'd done."

Percy crossed his arms, breaking eye contact. "Yeah?" He asked. "Well, maybe satyr emotions work differently than human emotions. Because you're wrong. I don't care what he thinks."

Grover huffed, giving up. "Okay, Percy. Whatever."

Percy took a shuddering breath, feeling Grover's concern gaze burn holes in the back of his head. "Besides," he muttered. "I haven't done anything worth bragging about. We barely got out of New York and we're still stuck here with no money and no way west."

Grover seemed to consider that, finally offering a small, reassuring smile. "How about _I_ take first watch, huh? You can get some rest."

Percy wanted to protest, but Grover started playing on his reed pipes. Laying down, back touching Luke's, he let his eyes slip close as he fell into sleep.


	11. Chapter Ten

He woke up to feeling of someone shaking his shoulder, opening his eyes and seeing bright blue irises. Luke smiled as he blinked groggily, offering a hand, and he was pulled to his feet.

"Uh," he started, out of it. "What?" Percy glanced at Grover, who was sitting crossed-legged by the trunk of the tree. In his lap was a ball of bright pink hair, yapping annoyingly and quivering.

Luke traced his gaze to the _thing_, letting out a laugh. "Yeah," he replied. "Grover, erm, found us a way west."

The satyr was murmuring to what appeared to be a kind of animal, eyebrows furrowed, concentrating. Percy broke up their discussion. "Grover, are you talking to that thing?"

His friend looked up, giving him a look. "He's not a 'thing.' His name is Gladiola." Percy didn't really know what to say to that. "And I am half animal," Grover reminded, the poodle barking almost agreeably.

"Yeah," he muttered. "But it's the bottom half." Luke actually chuckled, corners of his mouth upturning into a smile.

"Gladiola ran away from a rich local family, but he's willing to let us return him so we can collect the reward. We'll use the money to buy our tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."

Percy frowned, stomach sinking. "Not another bus, right?"

"Nope," Luke answered. "There's a train station a half a mile down the line. Gladiola says the westbound train leaves at noon." He nodded, rubbing his eyes, the edges of the horizon softening into dawn.

The train traveled through the vast countryside, sun shining through the trails of clouds lazily gliding over a bright sky. The trees were rich with crisp green leaves, grass sprinkled lightly with dew.

He watched as a herd of centaurs traveled past the window, racing one another. Percy glanced at the other passengers, waiting for some kind of yell or alarm, but nobody seemed to notice.

He looked at Luke, who was watching the scene unfold outside. Their eyes met, sharing a grin.

"Okay," he started, leaning against his seat, Grover asleep next to him. "How come nobody notices this stuff?"

"Mist," Luke answers, as if it's the simplest thing in the world, but Percy still doesn't get it.

"Obviously," he said. "It gets missed. What I'm asking is-"

"Not 'missed,' with an e-d," Luke interrupted. "Mist, with an s-t. It kind of shields the mortal vision, in a way, so that they don't see the monsters. So that they see something a bit different."

Percy nodded, thinking on that. The speakers overhead blared some announcement, but he only paid attention when the son of Hermes stood.

"Where are you going?" Luke gestured at him to come over, expression revealing nothing.

"How about we do some sightseeing?" He suggested. "Wake up Grover and follow me."

St. Louis was large, buildings polished and lake glimmering in the bright sun. They rode the elevator up to the Gateway Arch, and although he didn't appreciate the small space, it was a great view.

He was almost disappointed to leave, having to go back to the real world with monsters and godly deadlines. They waited in the line back to reach the ground, Luke and Grover filing into the elevator.

Percy was about to step in when a man stopped him, wearing a green uniform and matching hat. "Both cars are full," he informed the teen. "You'll have to wait for the next one."

An elderly voice spoke up from behind him, sounding much too cheerful. "Oh!" She said, and he turned. "No problem at all, sir."

He turned as the doors closed, looking at who had spoken. The words had belonged to a denim-clad woman, chubby fingers holding onto a tiny chihuahua. She turned her face to look at him, eyes shadowed under her visor.

The chihuahua growled, deep in its throat, Percy's foot tapping nervously against the floor. She looked at her pet, murmuring softly. "Very well, sonny. If you insist." The woman let her dog on the ground, where he stood still, right at her feet.

"Sonny?" He started out, trying to break the tension. "Is that your chihuahua's name?" She grinned at him, snake tongue slithering between fangs, and he did a double-take.

"Not _chihuahua_, godling," she corrected, skin hardening to scales. He backed up, eyes wide. "Chimera. It's an easy mistake to make."

The dog mutated along with its master, growing into a lion with goat rear legs. Two large horns erupted form its skull, a python making up its tail. Percy's hand went to press the button for the elevator repeatedly, not too surprised when it didn't respond.

It stalked towards him, slow and steady, eyes like slits. He started to run as the chimera's jaw unhinged, releasing a blast of pure flames.

He was blown across the room, clothes burning, skin strangely unharmed. Hands went to uncap Anaklusmos, and the monster appeared to back off slightly at the sight of the bronze blade.

He used that to his advantage, brandishing it closer to the mutation. It almost whimpered, retreating. "Stay back!" He warned, hands gripping a leather hilt, adrenaline coursing through him.

The act only seemed to work for a moment. It's master barked something in Greek, glaring at Percy, and the chimera lunged at him. He wasn't quick enough to dodge the attack, claws scrapping across his chest.

It hurt much more than it should have, causing him to stagger. He fell into a kneeling position, sword clattering out of his hands. When he rolled over his stomach was oozing blood, skin a sickly green.

The chimera burned a hole through the arch, its master kicking his sword through the gap. He watched as it fell, dragging his body furiously to the elevator, but she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck to stop his attempts.

He was close enough to see the very points of her fangs, close enough to smell the sourness of her breath. Her pupils were merely black slits, switching back and forth, never settling.

She dropped him, kicking his body near the hole. He hung onto the floor, heart pounding against his wound, not daring to look at the drop.

"Jump, Percy Jackson," she urged him, tones as venomous as the poison coursing through his veins. "A more pleasing end awaits you out there than in here, for the venom nears your heart."

He bit his lip, panting heavily, sweat glazing his forehead. Percy's hand made a move to his pocket but his sword isn't there yet, and the thought flits across his mind, wondering if it's lost forever.

"Die flattered," she continues. "Rarely is a half-blood allowed to be tested by one of my brood." He forces himself to look up, meeting her hard gaze.

"Your brood?" He gasps out, tone shaky, and she almost looks happy that he asked.

"Echidna," she introduces. "Mother of monsters, and the last being you'll be talking to for a long time." Echidna shoves him even closer to the edge with her Greek-styled sandals, his ears buzzing and throat sore.

He doesn't bother with a sarcastic remark, a last joke to bother the demon for her too-long existence. He's already falling, air whooshing past his body as it looses all control.

* * *

The river is cold against his skin, but not hard to dive into, and not wet like expected. It costs his skin but doesn't touch, a thin layer of dryness over his form.

He floats in the musty sea for what seems like an eternity, trash floating about in the water. It's too deep for any mortal to go in, the water-pressure having killed them by now, but he's not fully mortal.

A wisp of light brings some brightness to the dark, floating in front of his eyes. It grows into a more human form, mystical and inexplicably beautiful, face familiar under the glow.

"Mom?" He gasps, surprised he can speak, surprised he can breathe. She smiles at him, sadly, shaking her head.

"No child," the spirit tells him, voice soft and gentle against his eardrums, and his hopes sink. "Only a messenger. Though you may take heart- your mother's faith is not as doomed as you believe."

Her form encircled his figure, curling around the dirty water and making it a little more pure. "Am I-" he breaks off, unsure. "Am I breathing?"

She seems to sense the fear. "You have nothing to fear down here, brace one. Your father has granted you safety in this kingdom." A million more questions bubbled up in his throat, desperately wanting to ask who his father was, but she interrupted all of them. "I do not have much time, for this river is too foul for my presence."

He closed his mouth, letting her speak. "I am a nereid, a spirit of the ocean. But the naiads, my freshwater cousins, are helping sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court."

He briefly wondered on that. What would Poseidon want to do with him? If that was his dad, truly, it wouldn't explain his power with storms, wouldn't explain how he could split open the Earth with only a thought. Maybe he was on Percy's side, not wanting a war to break out, granting him safe being in his realm.

"I have come to you with this," she continued. "I bear a warning, and a gift." A hand materialized out of the light, fingers opening to display three shining pearls. "The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to manhood. Therefore, take these pearls. And when you are in need, smash one at your feet."

She started to fade away, pearls folding into his palm, glow gradually receding. "Remember; what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

Anxiety clambered up his heart. "Wait!" He yelled, the action feeling weird beneath the water. "What about the warning?"

If she heard him, she didn't answer, disappearing into the river. He stared after where she had gone, heart feeling heavy, mind confused.

He felt his pen return to his pocket, then, and it brought him the smallest relief. Percy willed himself to rise, and he could only watch as his head broke the surface.

* * *

_Sorry about the wait! I'll try to have them come in sooner. News in my _**Bio**_ as always, and I hope you mortals enjoyed the chapter. _


	12. Chapter Eleven

_Sorry for the late update! I started setting deadlines a few days ago, and missed them... twice. Hehe. Expect another update tomorrow :)_

* * *

It was a small diner, the kind with polished tables and and uncomfortable booths. Old-sounding music played from the jukebox in the corner, the smell of grease from the kitchen wafting through the cool air.

The three sat at one of the tables on the far side, facing the door but well away from the dwindling company. Percy was across from the other two, a single empty plate between them. Only crumbs lingered on the fragile platter, stray sesame seeds and ketchup stains making up the small meal enjoyed merely minutes ago.

The waitress came over to take the pitiful amount of money they had mustered up for the shared meal, blonde hair knotted up into a messy bun. She fixed them with an unimpressed look, a single delicate eyebrow raised.

"You big spenders ready for your check?" The waitress questioned. The door chose that moment to open, letting a refreshing breeze into the restaurant.

Percy's eyes fixed on the man as he strolled in, slow and easy. He was tall, incredibly tall, ripped body outlined in a leather jacket and eyes hidden between large red-tinted sunglasses. His head was shaved into a buzz cut, short and prickly like the aura he gave off.

Everyone seemed to turn to look at him, Grover's eyes bulging out of their sockets. The stranger made his way to their booth, giving a white-toothed smile to the now cowering server.

"Set 'em up again, doll?" He asked, but it came off as more of an order than anything. "My treat."

She gulped, stuttering a reply before speeding away. His grin expanded against bold features, squeezing into the space next to Percy.

The man's arm lazily dropped over the back of the chair, eyes that he couldn't see staring Percy down. "So, you're the newest godling, huh?" He asked. "Heard you busted Clarisse's spear."

Grover shrunk into his seat, as if trying to hide under his cap. Through the sudden wave of anger, Percy saw Luke's indifferent expression, but couldn't concentrate enough to focus on it.

"So what?" He nearly shouted, and several spectators looked their way. He didn't care, though; this guy, whoever he was, reminded Percy of every bully he'd ever faced. That casual sneer, that easy-going attitude. "You come here looking to get something of _yours_ busted?"

"Uh, Percy," Grover squeaked out, Luke looking impressed. "Be careful. His aura provokes aggression into anyone near him." Something at that seemed to click in his mind, ring a few distant bells in the back of his head.

"It's cool," the man grunted out, smirking like he knew that Percy had caught on. "I don't sweat a little 'tude, long as everybody knows who the boss is." He let that sink in. "You do know who I am, don't you, punk?"

"You're Ares, Clarisse's dad," he spat out, almost as if it was a curse. "My condolences. Who'd you get to mate with you, a crocodile?"

The wargod merely snickered, brandishing a sharpened knife. He fiddled with the hilt absently. "A real chip off the old block, ain't you?" Ares leaned forward, the scent of smoke and blood coming off his skin. "Me and your old man go way back, you know. That's why I'm here; heard you were in town, and I knew you'd need an assist."

Percy broke away from his anger at those words, confusion settling over his features. A spark of desperation flickered in his gut, an almost need to know who his father was. He had been sitting on the idea for a while, the missing information like a piece of the puzzle that made up his being, absent and breaking the image along with it.

"We're doing fine on our own," Grover assured. Ares chuckled.

"Yeah, sure," he muttered. "No money plus no wheels plus no clue equals no chance- but yeah, you're fine." Percy huffed angrily, and Ares fixed his gaze on him. "You ain't the first to go hunting for Zeus' toy. When it first got snatched, he sent the best to track it down. Apollo, Artemis, and me, of course."

Luke stifled a laugh behind his palm, eyes sparkling with mirth, as if finding the idea funny. The wargod paid him no mind, but Percy imagined him glaring under those shades.

He finally stood, the table quivering on its hinges as his muscled body squeezed through. The three watched him leave before standing, Luke lagging behind as Percy chased after the god.

Ares had just perched on his motorcycle when the group made it, turning back to look at them. "Reveille, troopers," he called out. "Times a-wastin', and there's a long road ahead." He tossed them the pack hanging on the handles of his bike, Percy just catching it in time. "Here's some cash and supplies. As for a ride west-" he pointed to the truck parked near the back of the diner. "You'll have to settle for stowaway service."

He glanced behind, looking at the large vehicle. Ares had already started his motorcycle by the time he looked back. "Better duck inside before the driver finishes his lunch," he advised.

"Why all the help?" Percy questioned.

"Like I said, me and your old man go back. I'm the one who told him about Hades stealing the bolt," he said, and Percy's head swarmed at the chip of information. "Framing somebody to start a war; oldest trick in the book. In a way, you've got me to thank for your little quest."

Sea-green irises made to check on the other two, hands fiddling with his pockets. Grover was as anxious as ever to escape the conversation, Luke looking almost zoned out. Bright blue shined behind locks of golden hair, and he blinked suddenly, forcing himself to look away.

Ares was already propped up on the vehicle. "That reminds me," he spoke. "What a soldier needs more than anything to complete his mission is motivation. So when you think about quitting, remember this- your mom ain't dead. She's being held hostage. Taking somebody to control somebody else, well, that's another old one."

He almost tripped on thin air, balancing himself out just in time. Percy's heart rose in his chest, beating faster than it should, bubbles of nervous adrenaline popping in his stomach.

And when Ares did finally take off, he barely heard the sound over the buzzing in his ears.

* * *

Vegas was beautiful in ways other big cities weren't, was glamorous in ways that small towns tucked into the corner of vast countryside could never be.

Neon signs assaulted their vision from every tall, unyielding building, skyscrapers truly reaching for the heavens and fancy cars at every fresh-paved street. Palm trees dotted the sidewalks, strings of lights wrapped around the strong wood, leaves blowing in the soft but warm desert air. His eyes caught on the flashing lights of the obsidian pyramid and the stratosphere tower in the horizon, stars driven away from all the commotion on ground.

They strode through the large but luckily not overwhelming crowds on the Strip, just as worthy of the praise it receives. Splashes of color, bleak and bright, blended in with one another at every glance, pinches of a million different types of music coming into his range of hearing all at once. They dived into the first casino they could get to, large and just as eye-shocking as all the rest, displaying the pictures of lotus petals bathed in brilliant lights.

It seemed even bigger on the inside, thousands of stories ranging above their heads, the sounds of lotteries being won and jackpots being received all around. Women in skimpy dresses trailed the casino, holding large trays of flower-shaped cookies and worming their way through every crack between buzzing machines and drunk guests. He took a moment to register it all, still dizzy from the action outside the doors.

Grover gaped at the scenery around them, eyes wide. Luke, to his credit, seemed unimpressed, their shoulders bumping as other people came through the entrance and past them. He finally took the son of Hermes by the arm, Grover following, trying to guide them through the maze.

They came to an abrupt stop as a man appeared in front of them, standing proud in a clean-cut suit. Percy's grasp faltered, weakening on Luke's elbow, jumping up in surprise. The man simply smiled at then sweetly, nothing false about the gesture but everything fake in his eyes.

"Ah, welcome to the Lotus resort and casino," he greeted, as if they were rich guests decked out in the finest attire and not mud-freckled teens that had spent the night in a truck. "We're so glad you've booked your stay with us."

"What?" Percy replied, confused. His hand tightened on Luke's arm subconsciously but the older didn't react, watching the man curiously. It had been, after all, the eldest's idea to enter here, claiming that they should find a place to regroup, but he didn't know why the structure stood out more than the others. "I think you've made a mistake."

"Indeed we have," he agreed, expression apologetic, and Percy briefly wondered if they were on the same page. "Your room isn't quite ready, I'm afraid," were the next words out of his mouth, and the precious concern was verified. "Please accepts these Lotus cards, on the house. You can redeem them anywhere in the building. Good as cash."

He handed them each a platinum rectangle, thin and cold to the touch. Luke shoved his in his back pocket as if dismissing the idea altogether, something almost devious in his expression.

"But-" Grover started to protest, only to be interrupted.

"You remember the travel agent telling us about the Lotus cards, don't you?" Luke asked, smirking. "We can use them to buy food and clothes..." He trailed off, but Grover was already nodding in agreement, and Percy couldn't find it within himself to call out the lie at the thought of some proper rest.

"You'll find us when the room is ready?" He said instead, because hey, if they mistook the three for a horrendously rich family, it wasn't his fault.

"It is my top priority," he promised, heading off with a bow. Percy was about to head to the snack bar when Luke reciprocated the earlier gesture, instead reaching for the younger's hand. He gripped it tight, both watching as Grover wandered off behind the man.

"So," Luke suggested, voice sounding inviting. "How about we have some fun in the arcades and such here before rushing off to save the world?" And under that kind tone and flushing lights, Percy doesn't think he would be able to refuse if he wanted to.


	13. Chapter Twelve

He pulled Grover against the rushing crowds, desperate to get away from the flushing lights of the casino. The smell of lotus petals followed them as they wormed between guests, the warm air outside flushing away the scent and clearing his mind.

His sense of time was out of whack, sweat beading along his forehead and heart racing against his chest. Percy took in a few deep breaths as Grover stopped struggling, Luke watching them both with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

"I though it was nighttime," Grover noted, staring up at the hazy horizon and the thin wisps of clouds trailing the sky above. Percy's vision focused on a newspaper rack a little ways away, eyebrows furrowing as he scanned the headline.

"Uh, guys?" He called out. "We weren't there for a few hours. Try _days_." He held up the paper, Luke not bothering to glance at it whilst Grover grunted unhappily.

It took them a while to flag down a cab, but traffic was luckily not nearly as bad compared to Manhattan's. The leather seats stuck to his skin, legs pressed against Luke's as the taxi took its sweet time.

His fingers tapped against the car door in irritation. "Can you drive any faster?" Percy snapped, looking at the glare shot at him through the review mirror.

"How much are you gonna pay me?" The driver replied, scowling. Percy sighed, holding out his hand to Luke. When the other took too long to react he reached his hand into Luke's back pocket, fingers brushing the denim of his jeans. The son of Hermes raised his eyebrows but kept quiet, letting the shorter claim the Lotus card without resistance.

"Do you take casino cards?" He questioned, straightening up.

"Only if they're good." He handed the card to the front, watching as it was swiped. The numbers spun and grew, expanding further as the driver gaped until the machine stopped with a lout buzz. Before they knew it, the cab was speeding down the streets, Vegas going past in a blur as they made their was to Los Angeles.

* * *

The waiting room was nice and clean, modern in style. A man in a handsome suit guarded the elevator doors, standing tall and distant to the other occupants whose limbs faded like a ghost's.

Percy lead the other two to the man, a raw power tugging at his gut. Judging by the indifferent expressions on his friends' faces he was the only one who felt it, felt the mark of death in this room. It got stronger the closer they came to the lift, resonating deep in his mind.

The bouncer regarded them with a stoic face, Percy taking a second to read the name tag pinned to his suit. The letters swarmed under his gaze, print dancing and flickering at every blink.

"Your name is Chiron?" He asked, tilting his head. Grover fidgeted nervously at his side, anxious.

"It's Charon, mate," the man answered in a low voice, deep and rumbly against his throat. He leaned forward suddenly, sunglasses shading his eyes. "Say, having trouble reading, are you?" He humphed. "You're a godling, and a not-dead one at that. Pity."

Well, there went their plan. "We want to go to the Underworld."

Charon snorted. "Well, that's refreshing. Usually I get 'there must be a mistake, Mr Charon,' or 'I'm not supposed to be dead, Mr Charon'. Nevertheless, I must decline."

Percy frowned. "C'mon," he nearly whined. "Stuck here for all eternity or not, even you must know that Hades is gunning for half-bloods. What's he going to think when he hears you turned us away at the door?"

Luke gave him that same impressed look, Grover meanwhile appearing frightened. "You let us in, though," he braved through. "And he might show you some favor. There may even be a raise in it for you. When's the last time you got a raise?"

Charon seemed to agree. "Please, mate. I get paid two drachmas a head, just like always. And a drachma doesn't go as far as it used to, let me tell you." He seemed to consider the offer, sighing softly. "You make a valid point about the raise, mate. Come along."

He shuffled through lost souls and desperate spirits, prying open the elevator doors. They all squeezed inside, trying to fit in the compacted space.

The doors closed behind their backs, elevator rumbling downwards. All of a sudden it dropped, drastically, hair flying upwards as gravity tied them down. Percy yelped at the change, flinging himself in the darkness at the object nearest to him in a panic.

He closed his eyes, burrowing his head in what felt like fabric. Strong arms wrapped around his frame, gripping them tight as the dropping sensation released them. He stumbled in the hold but was kept up, gasping against a warm torso.

"Perce?" A voice asked from above his head, sounding like Luke, and Percy blushed as he realized what was happening. It felt like back in the Hermes cabin all over again, him clinging onto something stronger, something to save him, and Luke taking up that role.

He lifted his head from the older's chest, the Underworld replacing the enclosed walls of the lift. The world stretched on for eternity, smelling of blood and smoke, vision adjusting to the dimness. They were standing on a ferry that sailed across a sea of black, Charon dressed in long silk robes and guiding then forward.

Percy slowly pulled himself away from Luke, shivering. It felt cold, much too cold for the Greek version of Hell. His soul felt detached, wavering under skin, the distant wails from afar ringing in his ears, and he was just starting to realize how hopeless this all was.

Luke's eyes strayed on his face, the vibrant blue looking grey in Hades' realm. He looked almost as if he were going against better judgement when his hand reached for Percy's, both regret and guilt battling for dominance on his features. The flash of emotion was gone before it came, and his fingers wrapped around Percy's palm in a silent reassurance. He would have been more touched if it didn't look like Luke was debating to take that grip and use it to propel Percy in the river, but he tightened the hold even so, recognizing it for what he thought it was and banishing the stray scenarios.

They reached the other side in what could have been an eternity or a short span of mere seconds, departing from the boat. Charon didn't glance back as he sailed away, disappearing into the thick fog. Grover glanced at their joined hands but said nothing, instead shifting his gaze to the other end of the Underworld.

"Now what?" Grover asked them, bouncing on his hooves. There was nothing ahead but more darkness, something to be revealed within.

Percy bit his lip, thinking. "Guess the only way there is to go now is forward," he suggested. When no better idea was made he took hold of the poorly formed plan, pulling his friends with him deeper into death.

* * *

_If you want a better idea of when I'm updating, check my _**Bio**_ every week or so. I'll be updating it the week when I'll be posting a new chapter, in order to make the times more specific. Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading._

UPDATE: _I just realized that I completely skipped the water bed scene. Uh, I'm getting all of this from the graphic novel (lost my copy of the book) and it is not in there. At all. Sorry about that, hehe. _


End file.
